


Old Friend

by Oft



Category: Tron - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 13:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oft/pseuds/Oft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dyson is Rinzler's first. Payback's a bitch, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Friend

Dyson hadn't stood a chance. Once Rinzler had him bowled to the floor, fingers wrapped hard around his throat and Dyson's kicked up leg pinned between them, he knew he was as good as done.

'Finish it, Tron!' Dyson's face was a mask of ineffectual rage, hands clawing at Rinzler's iron grip. That rattling emanating from the fissure of ragged wound on Rinzler's face was unsettling, to say the least. Rinzler only dug fingers in harder, forcing Dyson's head back into the floor, a final shove cracking Dyson's skull and shoulder against the flat surface as Rinzler shifted to drop his weight onto Dyson's other thigh. The position Dyson was in, with Rinzler grinding against him, made him flail more. There was no way he would let himself be taken by Clu's rectified monster. He arched his arm back to grab at his disk, and was rewarded by Rinzler slamming his whole torso down, the combined weight of both programs snapping Dyson's fingers back into uselessness.

Dyson screamed; a chuckle rattled from Rinzler's chest. Dyson never had any leverage when Tron had decided to use the entirety as his body as a weapon, and now to have Rinzler's dangerous ferocity behind it, Dyson was expecting more damage before derezzment. The loss of fingers would be a negligable thing in the end.

There was a lull, and Rinzler watched Dyson intently. Dyson struggled to keep his epression one of defiant fury, and Rinzler's was murderous curiosity. Eyes once steel grey were lined in red hexes, and all the gentleness Tron's face ever had was gone now. Dyson felt himself waver, and Rinzler took that moment to slap his hand against Dyson's suit, derezzing the material in a swift motion. He angled his hips, pressing his hard length in the dip between Dyson's thighs, where his fingers were pushing more suit away in a flurry of disintegrating pixels. Dyson attempted struggle, bringing the elbow of his arm up at Rinzler's face, scattering voxels from shattered fingers upwards, but there was not enough room, it was a distracting move at best. Then Rinzler had his cock in hand, immediately pumping hard, fist clenched around Dyson's shaft painfully. The shifting texture of undersuit and armor dug into Dyson's skin, aggravated by Rinzler's thrusting hips and the pressure of a hard shaft barely contained by the material.

'Don't do this, Tron. Just derezz me.' Dyson doubted pleading would work- he just didn't do that, and even now, he doubted there was anything of the former program in the shell that assaulted him now, but he could still hope. Rinzler's motions stopped, and he stared at Dyson. Dyson was horrified by Rinzler's eyes. His hoped he didn't end up being subjected to whatever Clu had done to his former friend. Enemy. Dyson had no right to call Tron friend ever again, and the point was driven home as Rinzler derezzed his own suit, hard cock falling free of the restraint, and penetrated Dyson with no pause. Dyson fought to not scream, and failed as Rinzler slammed mercilessly against him, fingers digging hard into flesh around his throat, choking off all sound eventually.

Dyson continued to struggle, trying to adjust for leverage where there was none, and Rinzler made no pause in his assault. It only ended up in Rinzler taking away Dyson's disc and flinging it across the room, and destroying Dyson's other arm as the other security program continued to struggle. The first overload that flooded Rinzler's system came as a temporary mercy for Dyson. Rinzler slipped out, relinquishing his hold, and allowing Dyson to roll away, limbs nearly useless. Rinzler only watched as Dyson tried getting to his feet before the program destabilized him, rolling him to his knees, making Dyson balance on his good elbow before penetrating him again. It wasn't nearly as painful this time, and Dyson only gasped at the entry, discomfort instead of pain.

Rinzler derezzed more of Dyson's suit, revealing his circuits, flushed with dread. Rinzler took his own disc ad activated it, Dyson suddenly keen on pulling away at the sound of the edge activating. Then the burn of extensive pain as Rinzler dragged the edge flat against the circuits, making Dyson fight even harder to retreat though Rinzler had on leg up and locked around Dyson's thigh, thwarting any escape, and Dyson's frantic thrashing just pushed his skin against the blade, cutting into circuitry and flesh, leaving behind terrible ragged wounds over his back. Rinzler's pistoning never slowed, the slickness from his previous entry lending itself to let Rinzler ride against Dyson even harder, forcing the other program down against the floor. 

Now Rinzler leaned down, mouth against the savage wounds and digging at the edges with teeth and tounge, letting the disc tap against the back of Dyson's neck. Dyson felt the edge shear off voxels from his hairline and leave thin cuts over circuitry, and for a moment he contemplated thrusting his head up to force his neck against the blade. Rinzler was keen on the manuever, keeping the disc just far enough away with every shift Dyson made. He finished agitating the ugly wounds, the glow of them shifting frantically between white light to red, and sat up, thrusting harder into Dyson in earnest. Dyson only tried pawing at the floor for traction with his shattered arm, unsuccessful as he was shoved against it to Rinzler's steady thrusts. 

There was a metallic clang and settling rattle as Rinzler dropped his disc to the side, and then one hand was grabbing Dyson by the hair, wrenching his head back, and the other hand hooking a thumb into Dyson's mouth, digging down against his tongue before forcing him to turn. Rinzler was leaning down, face close to Dyson's cheek, shattered wound in line with Dyson's line of sight, then Rinzler's mouth clamped over his, tongue replacing thumb, but Rinzler still held Dyson's jaw still, a refrain from biting. He took long moments to explore, sucking and dragging rough tongue over every soft surface before releasing him and kissing Dyson's face. Dyson tried shifting his head away from the unwanted attention, which earned him a hard jerk by the hair and a bite to his jawline, teeth grinding hard into codeform. Dyson screamed again, stopping only when Rinzler finally relented.

Voxels dripped onto the floor with clinks as his head dropped from Rinzler's grip, and Rinzler made no pause in fucking him harder against the floor. Several long microcycles passed, punctuated only by Rinzler sliding Dyson back against him or pinning him hard to the floor by the throat, and Dyson weathered it, almost imagining his fingers clawing at the slick floor if they were still intact. The disconcerting rattle was accompanied by heavy breaths or a guttural moan when Rinzler shifted his angle or changed his tempo, and each change made Dyson shudder a bit more.

Dyson was brought back to reality when Rinzler finally flipped him over, striking him along the missing chunk of jaw and setting his system ablaze with pain. Dyson expected the re-entry, but not the reintroduction of the painful handjob as well. Only when Rinzler locked his free hand around Dyson's throat again did his grip relent, subsiding into something more pleasurable, finally drawing something akin to arousal to Dyson's malfunctioning core. There was only the soft slide of fabric now, no armor, no crushing grip, no relentlessly painful thrusts. It was worse than the assault, worse than the games he enjoyed off-duty. 

'Just . . . derezz. . . me.' Dyson tried to keep a commanding tone, but the words dripped out, slow to register and almost too slight to hear. Rinzler's grip was finally erroring out his vox. The overload finally hit, almost imperceptible at first, then crashing down, shattering Dyson's processes. He bucked between Rinzler's hand and cock, gasping for breath while lights flickered in his vision before blotting out. The last pulse of orgasm was accompanied by an arcing light dropping towards him, a broken loop cradled within an unbroken circle, then a shower of voxels before his processes shuddered to a flickering halt . . .


End file.
